My Nov and Dec Photos

I have caught up on uploading the rest of my photos from the trip.   Most of them were taken while en route so they may not be the best quality.  However, there are a few gems in there were I stopped and took time to capture the scenery.  Enjoy!

San Francisco to Los Angeles

Los Angeles, San Diego, and crossing the Border

Baja California

Baja California Sur

Mazatlan to Tepic

Escuinapa, Tepic, and Cheating to San Miguel De Allende

After I finished up my last post, I hit Escuinapa for some Saturday night fun.  I asked around and found out there was one disco in town called El Patio.  The cover was rather steep at 80 pesos, but I wanted to do something so I forked over the cash.  I enter a huge barn like warehouse with a stage set up for some more musica banda.  I was the first person not working in the building and had 2 hours to wait before the band would show up.  I sat back with a bucket of Pacifico.  However, the beers were the small 7oz version.  I felt like Godzilla with those little bottles in your hand.  I think Pacifico uses the mini beers bottles to market to the Mexican machismo.  It is rather similar to how Nike makes their shoes run a size or two smaller so you think you have bigger feet than you really do.  In any event, I hate those mini Pacifico and tend to avoid Nike.

The time is around midnight, and I watch people start to break down the stage.  Apparently the lack of patrons brought the show to a close.  I head to the door ready to get my cover back.  The owner gives me 60 pesos and walks away.  I was feeling rather aggressive so I wasn't going to let the owner snake me out of 20 pesos.  I ripped off my broken Spanish, and he actually forked over the rest of the money without much of a fight.

Sign in the bathroom at El Patio

I was hardly ready to call it quits, but my options were pretty slim.  I saw a cantina down the block, but after my first few cantina experiences, I try to avoid them at all costs.  I grab a bacon wrapped hot dog and start talking to the two boys eating there.  I ask about nightlife and they tell me let's go to Boulevard.  I keep asking questions to understand what they mean, and eventually I find myself riding shotgun in a Vanilla Ice body style mustang.  We cruise down a few KM and get to a street with around 200 cars parked on both sides of the street.  Each car has trunks and doors open blasting Mexican music and  acting as a beer trough.  I'm reminded of Mardi Gras as girls form circles so one of them can squat and pee on the street in privacy.  I press my two new friends about mingling with the other groups.  I guess my pressure was too much because they ended up leaving without offering to take me back to my hotel.  I am now stranded in a random street party patrolled by Mexicans with assault rifles and no taxis in sight.  I make the best of it and prowl the street for some conversation practice.  I felt like a total mooch as I had no beer and was using the locals to practice my Spanish.  A taxi rolls up and I jet back to my hotel as I had a 190KM ride planned in the morning.

I hit the road with about 5 liters of water, some bread, PB&J, and a few cookies.  I typically like to get out of town fast and grab some quick food at a taco stand on the outskirts.  After the first 50KM, I saw no places to reload on food or water.

Lunch under a bridge

I stopped here to make a PB&J and take a quick break.  No more than 2 minutes after I stop, a bicycle gang rolls up.  There were 10 of them and they parked uncomfortably close to me.  I think they just wanted to sniff me out as they asked a few questions and headed back into the ditch.

Leaving Sinaloa and entering Nayarit

100KM from Tepic

With an hour of sun left, I make it 30KM outside of Tepic and still have not seen a place for water or food.  I haven't had any water for the last hour or so and am feeling rather weak.  The ride was hot and humid so my water consumption rate was up.  With the sun setting, the temperature dropped helping me to advance my pace.  About 20KM outside of Tepic I begin to see a large number of policia.  In that 20KM stretch, I pass close to 100 patrol cars with vehicles pulled over.  I am really wondering where I have gone.  I make it into the city and am totally desperate for food and water.  I fill up my bottles and chug the remainder of the 5 liter bottle then proceed to ask a cop, why there are so many cops.  I believe he pointed to three locations to show me where the police strongholds were.  I clearly understood when he told me: "the gangs man, if they see you and don't like you, they shoot you."  As I am having this discussion with the cop, I am hearing random gunfire rain down.  I assume it is gunshots, but it could have very well been fireworks.  Regardless, I was legitimately scared for being in Mexico for the first time.  I took the nearest hotel on the highway, which was more than twice any place I had stayed so far.  I decided that night that I don't want to ride for a while.

I went to the Tepic bus station and bought a ticket to Guadalajara.  I got to Guadalajara at noon per the time on my watch.  I bought another ticket to San Miguel de Allende which has one stop in Guanajuato.  When I purchased my ticket, I asked the lady what time it was, and she turned the computer around which verified that my wristwatch was correct.  I was suspicious because the clock on the bus was one hour ahead.  I further verified the time with my iPhone.

I had three hours to kill and got some of the best tacos I have had in Mexico.  I was sitting in the bus station unsure of the protocols for boarding times for the bus.  I head to my bus 45 minutes before the departure only to realize it left 15 minutes ago because the time had in fact changed.  I got on a bus to Queretaro and took a taxi to surprise my mom with my presence in San Miguel.  I will be posting up here until late January when I'll head back to Guadalajara to explore that city and continue my bike journey.

Taco Stand next to the Guadalajara Bus Station where I had 5 tacos and a Mexican Coke for 40 pesos

Mazatlan Review

Knowing what I know now, I would have done Mazatlan slightly different.  Let me explain.

I picked a hotel which was half way between Olas Altas and Zona Dorado, which basically means it was near nothing except the beach.  If I went back to Mazatlan, I would stay at a hotel in Olas Altas during the week and move to the Golden Zone for the weekend.  The reason I suggest Olas Altas for the week is that it is on the beach and still walking distance to the Centro and the Historico.  The reason I suggest Zona Dorado for the weekend is that is where the discos are which are only happening on the weekends.

The Centro can probably be skipped unless you are looking for some cantina action.  Gringos entering a cantina get a similar reception to the one received by Hans Solo and Luke Skywalker. 


Church in the Centro



The Historico district felt like a tropical New Orleans.  The roads were narrow and paved in cobble stones, the houses were brightly colored, and there was a decent number of restaurants and bars around the Machado Square.  I went to La Tertullia on two occassions in the Historico and happily enjoyed 12 Peso cervezas and a decent margarita.  Beach Burger had great food and the best margarita in Mexico so far; however, the waiter tried to rip me off in a two ways that I know of.  First, he failed to bring out my entire order as described on the menu.  Second, he added tax to my bill when tax is already added into everything in Mexico. 


Machado Square in the middle of Historico





The urinal at La Tertullia in Historico.  I thought it was cool.



Olas Altas is the 4 block strip of bars and restaurants along the Malecòn.  I enjoyed myself at Fonda and the upstairs at Bicho.  They both had live cover bands playing American tunes.  After the show at Fonda, I asked the lead singer if he understood the words he was singing, he gave me the look like he was trying to decode what I just said.  I know this look well because I make the same one all day when I attempt to converse with the locals.  At any rate, his look answered my question.

 

Live band in front of Fonda.  The guitarist on the left could really shred.  He also played the drums.

















The Zona Dorado is where the tourists go to feel more like they are in America.  I went there to eat food other than tacos.  Even though there was construction going on down the block blowing dust in my food, I had a great Cesar salad at Gringo Lingo.  The food at Yooper`s was sub par but provided a nice place to watch Thursday night football in English. 

I feel like a broken record commenting that these tourist destinations are seriously hurting from the Mexican reputation, but it couldn`t be more obvious than at Fiestaland.  Fiestaland is a place that has about 7 discos.  The largest is Bora Bora.  The size of this place rivals those of Las Vegas, except this one is on the ocean and the drinks are about a quarter of the price.  I can imagine Spring Break 5 years ago must have been quite a spectacle.  I could count the number of people in this place on my fingers and toes.  Granted, I was there on a Thursday which is not a big night for Mexicans.  A place that put on a decent showing was Joe`s Oyster Bar at the Ramada Hotel.  This place is also on the ocean and played American Top 40s.  I ended up with drinks I did not order, but maybe the drink runners were mind readers.  I went here Friday and had a good time.

Thursday Night with Musica Banda at Valentino in Fiestaland which marks the beggining of the Zona Dorado



The Fisherman`s monument on the Malecòn



Photo of the Malecòn Facing South

Similar shot about 10 hours later

 I made a hasty decision to get back on my bike and forgo the better club night in Mazatlan.

It is what it seems.  ¨Speed bumps¨vibrate your car or bike if you are me.

 I am staying in Escuinapa de Hidalgo for the night.  My hotel is a block from where I took this photo.

Church in the Centro of Escuinapa de Hidalgo

Leaving La Paz and Moving to Mainland Mexico - Malecón in Mazatlan

I spent most of Sunday trying to get bike supplies, but of course, the cities in Mexico never keep reliable hours so the store I was told to be the best for road biking was inappropriately closed.  I did manage to get a new battery for my bike computer so I will be able to keep stats again.  I will switch to KM so I can navigate easier, plus it makes you feel like you are going faster and farther.


I came across this church while roaming aimlessly



I thought this ad was cool.  It says: if you don`t vote, you don`t have a voice.



Later Sunday night I went to Pappas & Beer, which is a chain in Baja with establishments in Rosarito, Ensenada, and La Paz.  Sunday night is Banda Musica night.  I did not know what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised.  If I wasn´t so shattered from my Friday and Saturday nights, I would have enjoyed myself later into the evening, but nonetheless, I will go to another Banda show.  I tried to get some dance lessons from the locals, but they quickly were disappointed with my lack of coordination and general awkwardness.



Banda Musica

I was ready to depart La Paz Monday, but the only ferry out was the Cargo Ferry.  It sounded like hell so I decided to spend one more day in La Paz and take Tuesday´s Passenger Ferry.  I roamed the Malecón looking for the best beach spot.  Most were desolate so I ended up taking refuge under a bungaloo on the very north end at the Oromuel Playa Pública with only a few people in sight.  I stayed there to watch the famed La Paz sunset and was not disappointed.

The sky had an orange hue in this photo then had a blood red tint 15 minutes after the sun set.

I headed over to the ferry terminal to get my tickets.  While rounding a turn, there was a semi that passed me with almost no room.  I was thinking, dang that was close.  Then I realized that the truck had a second trailer.  The trailer actually bumped my left elbow.  There was about 4 inches of clearance on my right side to the shear cliff.  I thought for a moment that the worst would happen, but I managed to escape unscathed.  After going through the confusing process of buying a ticket, I headed back to the beach.  I had my bike so I headed for some nicer ones.  I went to the Northern tip of the peninsula to Playa Tecolete.  This was the best beach I have even been to.   The water was turquoise, there was a bar right on the beach, and the sun was shining.  I even got involved with some locals playing dominos and went from observing to learn the rules to beating them at their own game.  There isn´t really much strategy except, play your doubles first and try to reduce the options to your oponent so they have to skip their turn.  I also did the opposite of what is logical by playing off my lower dominoes first which they all held onto since that was a deciding factor in the tiebreakers.  It rarely goes to the tiebreaker so I´ll give up those wins for winning more of the games directly.

It was a bit windy this day, but other than that, it was paradise.

I make it onto the ferry and made friends with a 60+ year old Frenchman who had biked from Alaska.  His blog is jpsissia.eklablog.com  We helped each other through the confusing process of boarding the ferry.  I managed to get lucky, and when I pressed the entrance button, I was given the green pase sign while he received the red alto sign.  At any rate, I was on the ferry hoping it would be a fun boat ride.  While walking up the staircase, I see a Mexican man hunched over panting.  I offer him water but he declines.  His young children are half a flight up the stairs and I get a cross eyed look from them.  I don´t know if that was a way of them making fun of their father or me.  In any event, it certainly set the tone for the ride. 

The ferry had all of the amenities of a cruise ship.  I went to the bar and hoped to meet some interesting folks.  The bar had about 100 patrons, all of whom besides a group for 4 Germans guys were all Mexican men.  Literally there were no females in the bar.  The music was Mexican style where the singers get dressed up in bright colors with big dark sombreros and make that distinct Mexican holler.  The music gave me worrisome flashbacks of Guerrero Negro´s nightlife.  It wasn´t what I had expected, but I would be in mainland in less than 12 hours.  I went to find a place to sleep, but the movie theatre had people in all of the good spots so I went out to the open deck.  I laid in my sleeping bag in plastic lawn furniture.  It was a terrible night of sleep but provided for a nice place to catch the sunrise.

I was very confused by this sign.  I kept using it and saw other men in there so I think I was in the right.

I started feeling stomach pains while on the Ferry.  I couldn´t let myself get sick and let the locals think that the Gringo got seasick on the Ferry so I had to make it off the boat in reasonable shape.  However, the boat people kept us locked in a hot hallway for about 20 minutes before they unlocked the door.  My Baja Ferry experience was not great, but perhaps next time, I should opt for the cabin and not eat the chicken-like stew.



My Ferry in Mazatlan



Mazatlan like La Paz has a road called the Malecón.  However, Mazatlan´s version is about 3 times longer at 11 miles.  I rode my bike to what I estimate to be the middle and found a flee bag hotel.  I´ll post up here while I try to explore Mazatlan´s restaurants and nightlife.

¡Vive La Paz!

Constitucion was another non impressive Baja city.  I was losing my patience with Baja.  However, I heard there is an oasis, and it is called La Paz.  The topography to La Paz looks really flat on my map, but it was anything but flat.  I felt like I was struggling to get any measureable momentum all day.  This could have been from the subtle but relentless headwind.  I am still without a bike computer so my speed was based on my watch and km markers.  I started the day needing to keep a 22 km per hour pace.  I knew I was going to have trouble when my estimate shot up to 25.  Is the proper way to abbreviate kilometer per hour - kmh or kph?  Neither look right to me.

I finally met other bike tourists in Mexico.  They were a wolfpack of 6 and offered me into their wolfpack.  However, when you are riding alone, you make all the decisions and have to concede nothing.  I did not want to ride at the group´s pace, especially because they were planning to camp in the desert again.  I had to leave them behind, but I would soon see them again.  One of them looked as though he was going to join me when I mentioned I would be going all the way to La Paz in one day; however, the others in his wolfpack pulled him back into their group like crabs do when one is about to escape the pot of boiling water.

This was about 110 km into the ride, and I felt strong and thought I could make it before sundown.

For the next 30 miles after the above photo, there was this strange sort of cow land.  There were numerous cows in various forms. Some looked healthy, some emaciated, some with maggots and flies eating their remains, and some just a pile of dry bones.  I will never forget the pungent odor of a roadside rotting bovine body.

As you approach La Paz from the North, you are up on a mesa and can see the city down at the edge of the flat valley about 40km away.  Salvation was ahead!  However, darkness was looming.  I was on the road about 28km outiside of La Paz when the sun was completely down.  I was planning to ride in the dark even though I knew it was unsafe.  There was a situation that made me immediately change my mind.  I was riding in my lane when a car coming the other direction was passing a car in my lane.  I was buzzed by that speeding car and immediatly jumped off my bike and hitched into town.

The very first truck to pass picked me up.  I really had no idea what to expect.  However, I was lucky.  One of them spoke English.  The guy driving was the owner of a spear fishing store in La Paz.  They took me all the way into the heart of La Paz and showed me where the action happens.  I found a place for 220P a night 3 blocks from the Malecón.  This happens to be where all of the bike tourist stay as there are about 10 of us in there now.

As it is a Friday night, I head to the Malecón for some nightlife.  I wander down the drag and found a spot that was recommended by some younger guys at the spear fishing store.  I was struggling to stay energetic as I just put down a little over 100 miles in significant heat and headwinds. Even though I look very much like a zombie, a Gringo named Jason introduces himself.  He has been living in various places in Latin America studying Spanish.  We trade war stories, and my spirits are lifted.

Having fun with locals at Las Veritas Friday Night.  I ran out of sunblock during the ride, and my face got roasted.

This is Jungle on the Malecón Saturday night.

This is the Mexican version of Bingo.  I am not sure how you win, but I know everyone in this photo was really disappointed about 30 seconds later.

I am having a great time in La Paz and will be here until Tuesday at 5pm as that is the next Ferry.  Next stop - Mazatlan.

Legal Again, Randomness to Juncalito, and onto Constitucion

Before I dive into my experience at the Immigration Office, I want to share the night I had in Loreto.  Like every night in Mexico, I grab tacos for dinner.  I ask the taco guy where to go for nightlife.  This is the last time I ask a taco maker what bars are good because the only bars they think are good are strip joints.  In any event, I find a regular establishment called Mike´s Bar.  As I enter, a guy tells me, I´m ¨The Witch,¨ take a seat, and welcome to my bar.  He doesn´t look like a Mike to me.  Maybe a Miguel or Miguelito judging by his horse jockey stature.  In any event, he is very proud of his title and wants to show his power by kicking two of the three guys to my immediate right out of the bar.  The one he left was slurring his Spanish and wanting to chat with me.  I would compare this guy to a pound puppy when they give you the, ´my time is nearly up - please take me with you´ look.  Now my Spanish is pretty poor.  It´s even worse with loud music in the background but pretty hopeless when the speaker is 3 sheets.  I am not making eye contact or even acknowledging that he is there, but he is running his mouth about who knows what.  I leave the bar area and go to the back and sit at a private table.  He gives me 5 minutes of peace then comes over to me again.  I really thought this was some kind of joke, but he was for real.  He was no threat, just really blacked out.  The Witch asks me if I want him kicked out.  I don´t mind this guy, I just don´t want to talk to him.  He shakes my hand about 15 times and signs my notebook MARTIN DELA CRUZ DE LA CRUZ.

As I am going to the reception desk the next morning to get my deposit, my bike computer flies off.  This is no big deal as it happens pretty regularly.  However, this time it loses its memory and works only intermitently.  The last mileage I recorded was 1356 to Loreto and will be without a bike computer going forward.

In any event, I make it to the immigration office and am the 3rd one there.  Luckily there are 3 agents so I should be served right away.  After some waiting, I try to assert myself to make sure they know what I need.  I tell them what happened, filled out some paperwork, then went to the bank to pay a fine of 1200 Pesos and a tourist Visa of 246 Pesos.  I get back to the office and a few more people showed up.  There are the Mexicanos that come and go with hugs and kisses, then there are the American that are pulling there hair out.  One lady is balling crying as she has been to the office everyday for 5 weeks trying to get her FM2.  It´s clear that several of the Americans are there for the same issue as me, but we all basically have different waiting times and procedures.  Some of them have been there multiple times.  In total, I ended up spending about 3 hours in the office.  Towards the end of my wait, I really wondered if they would keep me in there from open to close and not resolve my issue.  I fill out another blank sheet of paper, sign my name on some forms written in Spanish, then get out of there.  All in all, there was no reason for me to wait as the agent wasn´t working on anything.  It just took him that long to pull a form out of the desk.  I hinted at a bribe to speed it up or skip the bank process, but I later learned that the Loreto office had federal trouble for taking bribes and now all of the money has to be handled at the bank.  It always seemed shady to pay the officer directly, but now the bank will be the one to rip off the state instead of the agent.  I´m not sure it is a lesser evil.  I also learned that the physically larger agent was part of a recent federal bribery sting but never lost his job.  I only brought up the crying lady earlier to mention this conversation between them:
Agent: If you don´t respect me, I can´t respect you.
Crying: I have given you nothing but respect. 
Agent: If you don´t respect me, I can´t respect you.
Crying: You tell me different stories each day.  How can I respect you when you are inconsistent?
Agent: If you don´t respect me, I can´t respect you...

I get out of the office, but it burned so much time that I couldn´t make it to Constitucion.  I stop and grab a sandwich, and in the parking lot of the restaurant, a Gringo tells me to come to his place in El Juncalito and have a shower and place to rest.  Just ask for ¨No Se.¨  It´s only 10 miles so I am not getting very much closer to the goal of La Paz, but it´s also the last place to camp on the Gulf before La Paz.  Juncalito is a tiny fishing pueblo where about 30 Gringos have set up semi-permanent winter camps.  All of the Gringos are in their 60s or older and retired.  There is no electricity and running water is intermitent.  Life is good.

Sunrise looking toward the Port of Escondito

I am greeted with a smoked filet of yellow tail and a Pacifico.  After tall tales and tall beers, we get invited to head down to another Gringo trailer where a bunch of people are hanging out.  I just entered a whole new world.  This was the world of the sailor.  One of the guys has been a ship builder since childbirth, another, shows me star constellations for 15 minutes and teaches me how to tell time with the stars, and another promises me a boat ride to La Paz in a day.  However, the most interesting in the 6 foot leggy blonde with two children that just spent the last year and a half at sea.  I hear tales of her boat, two daughters, and herself surving 50 knot winds in the open seas with 20 foot swells, having her boat sucked into a hurricane, having her boat thrown on its side then into a rocky shore, and a few others.  She was also a sushi chef before a sailor, so she said that she will spear fish and skin dive to provide food for her girls.  I´m a fan of sushi, but I can´t imagine the freshness of ones that are plucked out of the sea right in front of you.  The stories and passion that this group has for sailing is beyond anything I have ever witnessed.  We head back to my host´s pad to go to bed.  I eagerly waited for dawn to see if I would be apart of a sailboat crew heading to La Paz.  By virtue of this post, that didn´t happen, but it was fun to imagine it.  However, I am hooked, and I have never even set foot on a sailboat.  In the near future, I will get one of those and learn to take it around the world.  But back to what happened, there is a CB radio broadcast where all of the people around the port listen to.  The order of discussion is something like this: Weather conditions, arrivals, departures, crew, and it is closed with jokes and humor.  My host calls out offering my labor, but there were no takers, so I hit the road via bicycle.  Don and Brenda, thank you for bringing me into Juncalito and offering me wonderful hospitality.  I don´t know how I can return the favor, but please be in touch.

A parting photo of Don and Brenda in Juncalito

This was the last time I would see the Gulf until La Paz

The ride to Constitucion started with major climbs heading back over the mountains into the center of Baja.  I didn´t get the same winds to guide me up up the hill like a few days earlier.  In fact, the winds had now shifted and were hindering my progress.  After being at the peak of the mountains, I never got the fast joyride out of them.  There was a slow gradual descent with a headwind.  This was like sidestepping up a moutain on skis only to have all of the snow melt during the climb. 





After getting out of the mountains, there was a three hour stretch where I rode in a completely straight line and the scenery never changed.

This guy welcomed me to Constitucion

I will do my best to be in La Paz tomorrow, which is about 210 km.